Page 8 of Deviled Eggs (One Handed Holidays: Crossed Swords Edition #4)

Xalreth

The outfit hanging in front of me is monstrous.

“You’re sure this is right?” I yell through the door for what has to be the tenth time as I stare at the shiny black material, and like always, Micah takes his fucking time responding.

Three must be his magic number, because once again, I waited through three days of silence after our trip to the human park. I’d foolishly thought our relationship had shifted there.

He was opening up to me, and I was letting him. We were sharing something intimate—a glimpse inside each other that felt significant until he shut it down. Things became painfully cordial after that. Our attention was on the humans and their interactions, but neither of us was truly engaged.

My mind was locked in that moment when my arms were wrapped around his neck, sharing his air. Stuck obsessing over his warm, sugary scent and wondering if his lips tasted just as sweet. I was busy wanting more while he pretended I didn’t exist beside him.

He ignored me, and I was fuming by the time he dropped me off outside my building. But before I could open my mouth to unleash my fury, let him know exactly what I thought about him shutting me out… he was gone.

Poofed away without so much as a goodbye.

He acted as though nothing happened between us, pretending something didn’t change that night.

Everything changed.

Everything, and that pisses me off even more.

The last three days have been excruciating, trapped in this cycle of wanting to bend him over and put him in his place while also wanting to… to…

God, I can’t even fucking say it.

Spend time with him.

Comfort him.

Know him.

By the time his impersonal, artificially polite summons arrived, my anger had raged into an inferno. I was breathing fire and ready to burn him, but he collected me with that same impassive, stony face, and it cracked something inside me.

Instead of fighting him, I just came along for the ride.

Hid inside this room.

“ Fuck !” My temper sparks as I kick the chair, sending it screeching across the floor. “What is wrong with me?!” I grab a pile of papers and fling them into the air, watching as they flutter peacefully, then swipe my arm over the tabletop as pens and folders go flying. I seethe to myself, stomping around the room looking for more opportunities for destruction when Micah’s irritated scoff rolls through the door.

“I have read and reread the research you sent me on the act of ‘egging’, Xalreth, and every one of the articles agrees this is the right time of day and the proper attire to wear. The ears were an obvious necessity.”

“Obvious,” I groan, dragging my palms over my face. “Nothing about this is obvious, unless we’re counting obviously moronic .”

“I heard that,” he grumbles, and I roll my eyes up into my skull until they burn, silently mimicking him.

What the actual fuck have I gotten myself into?

A sane man would have abandoned this ridiculousness the moment it became clear Micah had no tangible plan. I saw the impending disaster, realized this was nothing more than an excuse for him to inflate his self-importance, and still didn’t walk away from this harebrained scheme.

A sane man would’ve put distance between the two of us as soon as I started catching feelings. It’s pitiful that, despite how angry I’ve been with him, I jumped at the chance to come the split second he asked to see me. All those muttered conversations dissolved into the wind—those one-sided arguments in the privacy of my house, when I told him I didn’t want him… where I gave him explicit instructions on where to shove this position.

Poof.

Gone, the very moment he beckoned.

Hell, if I had a shred of self-respect, I would’ve never volunteered at all. Although, time away from Drekoth is doing me some good… even if I’ve swapped one arrogant asshole for another.

“Are you done primping or do you need a few more minutes to fix your hair?” He chuckles like anything he said was remotely funny, and the sound grates on my nerves as I stomp to the door.

“That’s rich, coming from a man who needs an entire afternoon to blow dry.” He stands right outside the door as I whip it open, and the force causes the pearly strands of his hair to flutter. He’s fucking stunning. Pressed black slacks cover his legs while a black sweater hugs his broad chest. The plain outfit makes his face the focus, every beautiful line on perfect display.

His eyes widen as they take a long, leisurely stroll down my frame, and I realize I’m only wearing my boxer briefs. For the first time today, his composure slips as his throat bobs in a swallow. Let him look. He had his chance.

“If you’re done drooling, can we get moving?”

That’s all it takes. His mouth clamps shut, the muscles in his jaw tighten, and his eyes narrow into icy slits as his defenses rise. All those walls that had been broken down by our open conversation at the park are rebuilt and reinforced, stronger than before. What was a wooden fence around his heart might as well be a stone fortress.

Now that I’ve experienced what openness feels like with him, the silence weighs heavier. My warped, sunshine fantasies screech to a halt as he sneers at me. “I could leave you to do this yourself.”

“Do it, then. That’s fine by me.” It’s a bluff and he knows it, because without him, I’m stuck right here. Certain demons are gifted with the power to create portals, but not me. Drekoth remains stubbornly silent on my petition for a personal portalist during these months. His tantrum over having to train a new hair stylist is clearly overriding my actual needs, and I’m not about to beg him.

“Great. I’ll drop you off and you can find your own way back to Hell.”

“Fantastic,” I counter with a sarcastic smile, but it falters as he takes a step closer and crowds me. “What are you doing?” His brow lifts as he hooks my waist and tugs me against him. I barely suppress my gasp at the spark that passes between us, and I certainly don’t revel at the feel of his muscular thigh pressing between my legs.

“In case you’ve forgotten, we must be touching to teleport.”

“First, I’m not even dressed yet.” My chin tilts up, my eyes narrowed as my body presses against his, and the smile he flashes me is victorious. “And second, you could’ve just taken my hand.”

“Hold your hand?” he asks, full of condescension. “How terribly common.”

The pit of my stomach drops at the way he’s speaking to me, and I push against his chest as I fight to get away from his hold. “What the hell? Fuck you, Micah.”

My heart pounds as he leans closer, chuckling as he puts his lips against my ear. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Stop posturing,” I growl, shoving at his body again, and when I can’t force any space between us, I snatch his chin. My fingernails dig into his skin as I hold him there, both our eyes blazing. “You and I both know your place, don’t we? On your back underneath me…” He licks his lips, his pupils blown as my fingers flex tighter. “Or would you rather be on your knees? This alphahole bullshit isn’t convincing either one of us.”

He grabs my wrists and spins me, and I grunt as he shoves the front of my body against the wall. With a roar that shakes the ground, I struggle against Micah’s grip, but despite my insistence otherwise, his power is undeniable. His strength is a force of nature, and I can’t budge him. Warm breath blows across the back of my neck as he pins me with his weight.

“You think you have all the answers, don’t you?” he murmurs, nipping at my ear. “It’s a shame you can’t behave for your superiors.”

Blinding fury makes my pulse flash in the corners of my vision. “Oh, I know you aren’t talking about yourself. Get off me.” My elbow catches him in the gut, and he grunts as I free myself from his grip. A furious lightning storm rages in his eyes as he whirls, a palpable static charge lifting the hair on my arms.

Micah lunges forward, a violent blast of power slamming into me, and despite my instincts screaming at me to retreat, I stand my ground as his face stops inches from mine. His breaths are hot against my skin as his purple lightning flashes in warning. “Watch yourself,” he hisses through his teeth.

“I could bring you to the floor right now if I wanted to… make you submit,” I taunt, and his nostrils flare as the vein in his neck throbs in a rapid beat. “One word from me, and you’ll be down, bruising those pretty knees.”

“You think so highly of yourself, but you are nothing .”

“Nothing, am I? If I’m nothing, why are you always crawling back? Why do you keep begging me to give you what you need?”

“Need,” he snarls. “Don’t flatter yourself by thinking I need you. I can get that anywhere. Easily .” His gasp hitches in a strangled sound as my fingers wrap around his neck, fueled by rage.

“Have you been with someone else?” The words come out in a low growl, and his pupils dilate until they swallow the color in his eyes. They’re wild as I squeeze tighter, his breath struggling in his throat as fury scorches through my veins. My inner demon emerges, a faint red glow reflecting off his pale skin as my voice deepens. “Answer my question, Micah. Have you allowed someone else to touch you?”

“No,” he grunts before he shoves me back. I crash against the table, my hands slamming onto the surface to prevent me from falling to the ground.

“Do not forget your place,” he sneers, the raw power emanating from him pressing on me, constricting my breath and pinning me in place. “This is business, and you have a job to do. Get dressed so we can do it.”

“You’re just fucking scared,” I say, a condescending laugh rattling in my chest. He bares his teeth, and his power buckles my knees until I can barely remain standing. “Terrified little angel, afraid to be honest with himself. Too frightened to admit that something is happening here.”

A flicker of uncertainty crosses his expression as his hold on me loosens. “Fuck you, Xalreth. We spend one civil evening together and you presume to have me figured out? You know nothing about me.”

I storm over, weaving my fingers through his hair and steering his face to mine. My tongue slips between my lips and his eyes drop to track the movement. I inch closer until it would take only the tiniest nudge to close the distance. He wants it as much as I do. His instincts are screaming at him so loudly I can almost hear their cries, telling him to stop being stubborn and take what he wants.

What we both want.

But all of Heaven and Hell couldn’t find two souls more stubborn than ours.

Neither of us moves as we share the same air. Anticipation grows thicker until it’s a tangible thing, crawling over my skin and urging me to take.

But he needs to be the first to break.

I force myself to wait, as we both draw in this charged air. After what feels like an eternity, his lips separate and move to catch mine.

I dodge his kiss at the last second, and his eyes are furious as they snap to mine. “I know plenty. And this denial? This big man, alpha energy you’re projecting right now? It’s a fucking lie, and that’s on you.” I tear myself away from him, waving my finger between us. “All of this is on you. I put myself out there and you turned me down. Remember that the next time you want to wallow in self-pity. You were the one who rejected me, not the other way around.” His eyes are full of fire as I spin and storm towards the door.

“You rejected me first! You don’t get to pin this on me!” he bellows at my retreating back, but I don’t turn around to face him. “If you walk away from me—”

“Then what? Thought this was just business?”

I glance over my shoulder and find him furious, skin flaming red and veins prominent. “It is.”

“Then you’ll have no problem keeping this relationship strictly professional, will you?”

“No, I won’t,” he grits.

“Fine.” I give him a fluttering wave as I head into the other room to change.

“Fine!” he shouts, right as I slam the door behind me. My chest heaves as my breaths form a ragged, painful rhythm, and I lean against the door as my eyes squeeze shut. My fists clench so hard my nails dig into my flesh, a couple of them breaking the skin until it bleeds.

Sheer stubborn pride is the only thing that prevents me from leaving and never returning. Micah doesn’t speak as I join him in the hallway, though his lips tick up in the tiniest smirk as he eyeballs my outfit.

“Not a word, angel.” I glare at him as I take his offered arm.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, demon.” His pretentious smile makes my blood boil all over again, but before I can respond, he whips us away.